


Options

by Severina



Category: True Blood
Genre: Community: prompt_in_a_box, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 09:17:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8007655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sookie feels her independence is threatened, she expects to read Eric the riot act and be done with it. She ends up with some interesting possibilities for her future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Options

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ's prompt_in_a_box community, for the prompt 'frost'
> 
> * * *

"You're angry," Eric said.

I glared at him across the desk. 'Angry' did not begin to cover it. 'Spitting mad' was a better description. 

Behind me, I heard Pam ease the office door closed, muting the noise of the music from the bar. Surprising, since she normally tried to stick around whenever Eric and I had a fight. She was probably hoping that one day he'd lose his temper for real and rip my throat out, and she'd get to be there to watch and gloat. Yeah, we weren't exactly friends. 

"I could feel your anger increasing as you neared," Eric said. He leaned back in his leather chair, crossed his long fingers over his stomach. "What has you so upset?"

In answer, I tossed the paper in my hands onto his desk. It was crumpled and creased now. I'd gotten it from my mailbox at the end of the driveway in the late afternoon and since then it had been shoved in my purse, pulled out three different times over at Brown's Fuels while I tried to sort out the mess, and then clutched in my hand around the steering wheel while I sped to _Fangtasia_. Eric watched it drift onto his open ledger without moving.

"Would you care to explain that?" I ground out.

Eric kept his eyes on me while he leaned forward to lift the paper from where it had fluttered to his desk, then gave it a perfunctory glance. "This appears to be an invoice from a local utility company," he said. 

"It's an invoice," I said, reaching out and snatching it back from his hands, "that is marked _paid in full_."

"Yes," he said. When I just stood there fuming, he inclined his head. "And?"

And? _And_? I gritted my teeth and mentally counted quickly to ten. " _And_ ," I finally continued, "I've been putting aside some money ever since the first frost 'cause I knew the furnace oil bill would be comin' in and I've got an installment plan with them. And then I get the bill today and find out it's already been paid, _in full_ , by AIK Investments or International or whatever the heck you call your stupid company!"

"It's actually AIK In—"

"I don't care!" I shouted. "You can't use it to pay my damn bills, no matter what it's called!"

"I see," Eric said. "Would you prefer I use another account?"

I don't think I had ever literally thrown up my hands before, but there's a first time for everything. "Are you being deliberately obtuse?"

"I simply fail to understand why this has made you so angry." He leaned forward, folded his hands on the desk. Take away the leather jacket and put him in an ill-fitting polyester suit and he could be Mr. McGillvray down at the bank, patiently explaining the terms and conditions of a five year loan. "You are mine. I take care of what is mine."

"I don't—" I bit back on what I was going to say, because I was totally going to shout again and shouting wasn't going to solve anything at the moment. I looked down at his folded hands instead and tried to will myself to have the same kind of stillness. It didn't exactly work, but at least I didn't feel the urge to strangle him anymore. I had to admit that the whole 'you are mine' thing sometimes had intriguing possibilities – in the bedroom it certainly led to some interesting dynamics – but Eric didn't seem to understand that when it intruded on my plain old regular life he was crossing a line. "Look," I said, doing my best to sound reasonable, "just because you own my house" – I gritted my teeth, that was still such a sore point, but I forced myself to carry on – "doesn't mean that you pay for all the expenses. You're my landlord, not my keeper! It's no different than Sam renting one of his houses to Holly."

"That depends. Are Sam and Holly lovers?"

"I just said, that makes no diff—"

"Has he vowed to protect her and keep her safe, even at the risk of his own life?"

"That has nothing to do with—"

"Has he bonded with her as humans do, through marriage?" 

I huffed out a breath. "We're not married!"

"Do you want to be?"

That brought me up short. He was watching me, as calm and cool as he ever was, one eyebrow quirked as I gaped at him. 

It's not like I hadn't thought of it; hadn't drifted to sleep wondering about it. I'd thought about it before, too… hell, I'd even worn Bill's ring. For a time. Until all of that came crashing down around me in a mess of blood and lies. I slumped back onto one of the office chairs, all the fire drained out of me.

"Eric," I said softly, "I didn't come here for that."

He spread his hands wide, as though to say that he still didn't understand why I _had_ come.

"We're… different," I said haltingly. Understatement of the century there, and Eric's eyebrow crept further up his forehead. But he let me sit, gather my thoughts. It wasn't just the difference in our states – vampire versus human. Or at least, mostly human, in my case. He was politics and intrigue; I was slinging beers and trying to keep my head above water. He was tooling around town in his fancy car; I was puttering in my little beater. He was designer labels; I was waiting for the sales at Wal-Mart. It was hard enough sometimes trying to make those two worlds meet without adding anything else into the equation. 

And marriage? I can't deny that the thought gave me a little thrill right down to my toes. I loved him and he loved me, and everything in the way I was raised told me that equation should end in a long slow walk up the aisle. Except the rest of that all-American fantasy involved a white picket fence and two point five kids and a dog, and none of that was going to happen with me and my vampire boyfriend.

Apparently Eric got tired of waiting for me to figure it all out, because he cut straight to the chase. At least as far as the furnace bill was concerned.

"I'm rich, Sookie."

I looked up to meet his eyes. "I know that Fangtasia's doing real well—"

"I am _rich_ ," he repeated. "I have had hundreds of years to accumulate my wealth. I have holdings and properties in a dozen countries. You need never work, never struggle to pay a bill. Why will you not let me do this for you?"

The fact that he truly didn't understand let me lose hold of the last of my anger.

"I can't be a kept woman," I told him. The thought of it made me shudder inwardly. Sitting around in a big house all day, bored to tears, letting someone else do my cooking and cleaning. The stares I'd get when I went into town. All the whispering behind my back and the nasty thoughts I'd hear that people'd never have the guts to say to my face. It would be horrible.

And Eric _laughed_. "Do you think I want you to lounge around in my house all day in slutty lingerie, just waiting for me to wake up and fuck you until you pass out?"

He did have a way with words. And I guess my face must have shown him that I _did_ think he meant something along those lines, because he shook his head. 

"Sookie," he said, "you could do whatever the fuck you wanted. Start your own business, go back to school, spend your days walking dogs at the Shreveport SPCA." I guess I still looked skeptical, because he leaned forward. "You say that the shifter wouldn't take care of one of his tenants the way that I want to take care of you. But you are not my tenant. You are the woman I love. You are mine. And if I were a doctor or a lawyer – if I were a human – and we were bonded, would you still refuse my help?"

I puffed out a breath. Having their daughters land a doctor or a lawyer was the dream of half the mothers in Bon Temps. The other half dreamed about the daughters themselves growing up to be doctors or lawyers.

And was it any different? The bond we'd forged with our blood might not be a marriage but sometimes it sure felt like one. I fully expected to spend the rest of my life with Eric Northman. I simply couldn't imagine a life without him. Was I just digging my heels in because I worried what other people would think? Did I really have to keep scrambling to pay every bill on time and take extra shifts just so I could make ends meet? At what point did it stop being about maintaining my independence and start being about being a martyr? 

I looked down at the crumpled bill in my hand and let it drop onto the floor. "Thank you," I said.

He blinked. I'd actually managed to surprise him. "Does this mean the argument is over?" he asked.

"Yes, but—" I wasn't able to get out any more before he moved too swiftly for my eye to catch. One moment I was slumped back in one of the more uncomfortable chairs in his office – I'm sure he bought them just so visitors wouldn't get too relaxed – and the next I was straddling his lap while he lounged on the _extremely_ comfortable leather sofa. 

"Good," he said briskly. "That means that we can move on to the make up sex."

"I am _not_ having sex with you in your office."

"I'll lock the door."

"No," I said. I had to laugh when he gave me his best rendition of puppy dog eyes. He was surprisingly adept at it. "I have to get back to work. I asked Holly to take the first half of my shift so I could come here tonight and yell at you in person."

"The personal touch is always best," he agreed with a grin. His hands went wandering despite my admonition, long fingers edging up beneath the hem of my little black shorts. "And that does explain this fetching ensemble."

I giggled again and squirmed in an attempt to get away, and that only made it even more obvious just how eager Eric was for a little office diversion. But he let me lift myself off his lap after a long drawn-out kiss that made me regret that I hadn't just asked Holly to take my entire shift. I re-tucked my T-shirt – Eric's had been at his persuasive best, and I could still feel the lingering touch of his cool fingers on my stomach in a way that was entirely too pleasant when I still had a long drive back to Merlotte's and a busy shift ahead – and fixed my ponytail while he reluctantly flung himself back into the leather chair behind his desk.

I hesitated with my hand on the office doorknob. "I could never go back to school," I told him. "It was hard enough the first time around. All those active brains."

"You'll figure it out," Eric said. He glanced down at the paperwork littering his desk – despite his desire for a little romantic interlude, he obviously had work that needed to be done tonight too – and then turned his attention fully to me. "We can discuss your options further later tonight. If you'd like."

I thought about giving up Merlotte's – the ten hour shifts, the aching feet, smelling like cooking oil and stale beer, constantly having to guard against all the thoughts trying to crowd into my brain. I thought about freedom.

"I'd like," I answered. I opened the door, letting in the sound of a pulsating bass and the wail of a female singer. The scent of sweat and desperation drifted in on the backbeat. I looked over my shoulder and put on my most saucy smile. "But another day, 'cause tonight when I get off work? I intend to get into some slutty lingerie. Maybe you can stop by sometime after one and… oh, I don't know… fuck me until I pass out?"

I shut the door on Eric's answering grin, but not before I heard his fangs clink down. When I got that bill in the mail today, who knew that the evening would end up having so many intriguing possibilities?


End file.
